Magic and Miracles
by BlackBlade0001
Summary: The Muggle World called it a Miracle; the Wizarding World called it a Disaster. Life doesn't stop, but Magic does and Auror Potter is sent to find out why. Later on he wishes he had called in sick that morning…or maybe not.


**Magic and Miracles**

**Chapter One:**_ A Bad Day at Work_

**By** BlackBlade

**Disclaimer:** I do _NOT_, and sadly probably never will, own Harry Potter or Torchwood, nor am I profiting in any way shape or form from this _entirely fictional_ story involving the characters in the aforementioned Book/Series, which belong to J.K. Rowling and the BBC respectively. Thank you.

**Summary:** The Muggle World called it a Miracle; the Wizarding World called it a Disaster. Life doesn't stop, but Magic does and Auror Potter is sent to find out why. Later on he wishes he had called in sick that morning…or maybe not.

**Author's Notes: **What can I say? These plot bunnies like to ambush and hit me when I least expect them. Honestly, I was actually watching "Cowboys and Aliens" with my friends when this idea popped into my head…I mean, _where the bleeding hell did it come from_? Ah, well, it's here now and I'd very much appreciate it if you guys told me what you think about it.

Rated **T **because of death, violence and blood (It's "Miracle Day", what else did you expect?), possible mentions of sexual themes and innuendo (It's got _Jack Harkness _in it, what else did you expect?). If any/all of these things make you uncomfortable, please turn back now…or keep going at your own risk, just don't complain about it later.

Another thing, this happens way after "Deathly Hallows", but the Epilogue has obviously been sent on a merry tumble out the window. Also, all events before "Miracle Day" happened just as in cannon. This is only AU after the aforementioned times.

~ oooOOOooo ~

It all started on a Monday. It was kind of fitting, in a way, that the end of the world would start on the most hated day of the week.

To be more specific it was Monday July 11th of the year 2011. It was a day that started out just the same as any other common, normal, _boring_ day for the one and only resident of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, one Mr. Harry James Potter.

Harry Potter was a 31 year old man, a rather handsome man if the gossiping ladies in the neighborhood were to be believed, with messy raven black hair and bright green eyes, tall but not overly so, just above average perhaps, who was always polite to everyone even if he didn't really socialize much. He was, all in all, just a normal, ordinary man.

Except of course, that he wasn't. What his neighbors in Grimmauld Place didn't know was that Harry Potter was also a famous war hero, who at seventeen years of age had brought down a very dangerous criminal who threatened all of Britain, if not perhaps the whole world. They also didn't know that Harry Potter was a wizard, or that he worked for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in the Ministry of Magic, or indeed, that any of the above even existed.

Either way, this particular Monday was a normal day for Harry Potter. He woke up at 7:00 a.m. sharp, got a shower, got dressed, ate a meager breakfast consisting of tea and toast and then promptly made his way to work.

This is where Mr. Harry James Potter's day finally broke the routine. When he got to the Ministry, through the fireplace located in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement for the use of its personnel only, everything was chaos. It wasn't the '_We've got a mild emergency'_ kind of chaos, or even the '_We've got a major emergency and we don't know what to do'_ panicked kind of chaos. This was pure, unadulterated '_We've got a disaster of massive proportions so we're gonna run around like headless chickens now'_ kind. Harry hadn't seen one of those in years, not since the Great Invasion of Cursed Books of '03.

After passing the fifth panicking, running coworker, Harry had finally had enough, it was time to put some order into this madness. He took out his trusty Holly and Phoenix feather wand and shot red sparks…or tried to. There was absolutely no reaction from the wand. Befuddled, Harry tried again, only to get the exact same results.

He was very nearly ready to join the mass of confused and panicked people when a very familiar voice caught his attention.

"Harry!" Hermione Granger, his old friend and advisor in all-things-intellectual, called out amidst the almost rioting crowd.

He swiftly made his way towards her, pushing and elbowing more than a couple disgruntled wizards, and almost sighed in relief at the sight of her not-quite-as-bushy-as-back-in-school brown hair. If there was anyone who could explain this madness, and the reason for his malfunctioning wand, it would be good old Hermione.

"Hermione!" He exclaimed almost happily as soon as he finally reached her. "What in the name of Merlin's smelly socks is going on here?"

In retrospect, her bright, almost teary, brown eyes, and the positively frazzled look she had, should have been pretty good indicators that he should have expected something bad; but even if he'd been waiting for it, which he was not, her answer would have still managed to leave him gobsmacked.

"It's Magic, Harry. It's...it's just…_gone_."

He finally panicked.

~ oooOOOooo ~

It was almost ten minutes later that Harry, who had somehow managed to breathe without hyperventilating, brought his friend into his private office and shut the door, somewhat quieting the ruckus from outside. He had had to make use of every last bit of patience and level-headedness he had gained with age to not question (or outright interrogate) Hermione out there in the middle of the panicked crowd, but he'd managed and now he wanted answers.

"What, exactly, do you mean with 'Magic is gone'?" He asked, staring right into her eyes as though trying to silently communicate how important her answer would be; not that he needed to, she probably already knew that.

Hermione took a deep breath, apparently steeling herself for some horrible task, before replying. "I mean just that. Just about an hour ago everyone's magic just stopped working. No one's been able to cast a spell since, everyone's tried, and they're all understandably…shocked." She said the last word as though not entirely sure of it, like she would rather say something else instead but was too polite to…'panicking, being stupid and making an even bigger mess of it' was what she'd probably had in mind. Harry agreed.

He blinked once then twice, willing himself to calmly, _reasonably_ think and try to make some sense of the situation. His self-restrain paid off when he quickly realized something.

"But Magic can't have just gone out, not at the time you say it did. I just got here a few minutes ago…_through the floo_. That's magic. Maybe there's just some…ward or curse or something inside the Ministry that's causing this."

His slightly-bushy haired friend paused for a second, the sharp look in her eyes letting him know that she was now going through several options and explanations in that very clever mind of hers (she got the same look back in school when researching something particularly intriguing), before finally shaking her head.

"It's not just in the Ministry, reports are coming in of witches and wizards all over the country, complaining that their wands aren't working." She paused there for a few seconds, considering something. "You're right though, the floo is still working, and so are the other entrances to the Ministry, and the spells hiding it and every other Wizarding site on the country. _Why_?" As she questioned herself she paced all over the office, her face once more wearing _the look_ Harry had come to associate with a working Hermione, who should not be disturbed.

"Maybe it _is_ just the wands malfunctioning?" The raven-haired wizard offered, trying to offer some possible explanation that made sense.

Hermione paused, but then shook her head again, brown curls flying everywhere, and kept her pacing. "Can't be, I heard that there were other things, like portkeys not working, and people who suddenly couldn't find their houses. That's got nothing to do with wands."

Harry sighed, his hopeful theory soundly defeated by her logic. Just as he was opening his mouth to say something else, the door to his office opened and one of the newer Auror recruits, Hendricks if he recalled correctly, walked in nervously.

"Sorry sir, it's just…well, we've got an emergency call just now and it's…it's kind of important." The young man said, turning his eyes from his superior officer to Hermione to the chaos outside and back again as though unsure of where he was safest.

Harry sighed for the second time in as many minutes.

"Yes, well, we have kind of an emergency situation here, Hendricks. What, exactly is so 'kind of important'?" He questioned, not unkindly, though he was a bit annoyed at being interrupted while trying to solve the mystery of the madness currently going on.

The poor young man squirmed a bit, his eyes now firmly on the ground, before answering in a low voice. "It's Hogwarts, sir. The people of Hogsmeade say it's kind of…disappeared".

~ oooOOOooo ~

The day had gone downhill from there. He had sent a team to Hogsmeade, through the floo since suddenly no one could Apparate or use a portkey, only to have them return three different times because they had apparently forgotten something important back at the Auror office. Hermione had finally come to the shocking and rather horrifying conclusion that the Muggle-repelling wards on the school were affecting them, which meant that Hogwarts hadn't vanished, they just couldn't see it. This had, unfortunately, brought on the realization that, to the wards at least, they were _muggles_. Suddenly the lack of magic made a whole lot more sense, though no one was relieved at the explanation.

An emergency meeting had been called to try and deal with the situation, all Department Heads, all Senior Aurors and all Unspeakables were required to attend. After hours and hours of deliberating, guessing, shouting, name-calling and outright fighting on the part of a few extremely angry people, they had come to a conclusion.

Magic was still working, but witches and wizards had somehow been turned into muggles. All enchantments and the like that had been cast before that day were still working, it was just now impossible to cast new ones. This at least meant that the Wizarding World wouldn't be revealed to the muggles all of the sudden, the magic that kept them hidden still functioning. Unfortunately, it also meant that any and all places with muggle repelling wards were now notoriously difficult to access; it made Harry suddenly glad that he'd changed the wards in his house to be more friendly to muggle visitors, otherwise he might not have been able to get back in.

~ oooOOOooo ~

It was a couple of days after what the muggle world was now calling 'Miracle Day', and what the Wizarding world referred to as a monumental catastrophe, that Harry once again found himself in the company of Hermione. He hadn't seen his friend at all since that awful chaotic morning when it all started, as they had both been way too busy trying to deal with the aftermath of the disaster their whole world found itself in. At the moment, the whole Wizarding world was on hold, still very much afraid but mostly done with the panicking, and both of their Departments had a lot to deal with.

It was during this 'dealing with' that Hermione had finally found a possible lead to actual answers on their situation. She had apparently, as official liaison with the Muggle Government, found just an hour ago that the American Government (also the Muggle one) had requested the extradition of some people from something called Torchwood. Harry hadn't the foggiest what Torchwood was, but Hermione seemed convinced that it was important.

"It's a muggle organization, kind of their version of the Department of Mysteries I guess. I only found out about it after that whole debacle with the 456, you remember? Children all over Earth speaking at the same time?" Hermione said, her tone urgent and obviously trying to convey the importance of her discovery.

Harry barely suppressed a shiver at the memory of that particular incident. At the time, they had thought it to be some sort of curse or some other magic affecting the children, _all_ the children; even his beloved godson Teddy had not been spared. It had been terrifying at the time, to think that something could happen to all those kids, but in the end nothing had come of it and the situation had been mostly forgotten.

"Yeah. But never mind that, what about this Torchwood thing? Why is it so important?" He insisted, trying very hard not to remember the panic of the 'Cursed Children' episode, one unexplainable disaster at the time, please.

Hermione huffed, apparently _slightly_ irritated, before carrying on with her explanation.

"They are, or rather _were_, the ones to deal with all sort of…strange things. Like unexplainable events, mysterious things that most muggles couldn't even understand." Her voice was softer now, as though she was somewhat unsure of her own words.

He snorted. "Yeah, but they're _muggles_, Hermione. A lot of things are 'unexplainable' to them." He even made air quotes to illustrate his point there. "What makes you think they could have something to do with this? If their organization even existed still, you said they disbanded."

And now he was subject to yet another of Hermione's _looks._ This particular one was reserved for when he was being particularly annoying to her and usually preceded the exclamation of his full name and a rather long rant on his friend's part. Fortunately, she seemed more interested in getting his cooperation than in lecturing him and managed to restrain herself.

"First, they are muggles who _know_ things. They knew about magic, the Ministry even had a sort of agreement or something with them, and they knew of a lot of thing _we _have absolutely no idea about, weird and very advanced technology, strange happenings that had nothing to do with magic or muggles, just…_stuff_. And as though that wasn't enough, at the same time as this…this _thing_ with magic and the miracle happened, the American government suddenly develops an interest in two people from a British organization that disbanded almost two years ago? It's a bit too much of a coincidence, don't you think?" She said, sounding rather sarcastic at the end, probably to let him know just how annoyed she was at his lack of faith in her deductive abilities.

It _was_ a bit too much of coincidence though, and Harry had stopped believing in coincidences a long time ago.

"Alright, fine. So what do you want me to do, then? You said they're being extradited." Even as he spoke, his mind was coming up with ways to retrieve this two mysterious people from American authorities and question them himself. Without his magic to help, it would be a bit difficult.

"Well, I managed to talk the right people into letting a representative of the British government into accompanying the Torchwood people as they are transported to America, since they are still not charged with any crimes and no one has any proof of them being involved in any illegal activities. The Americans agreed too, and as _you _are an employee of the Ministry of Magic, which really is a part of the British government, not to mention people in high places still remember your 'contribution to our nation', you'll be allowed to be that representative…going undercover, of course."

The smile on her face was frighteningly similar to that of a cat who got the cream…and the canary.

~ oooOOOooo ~

Only four hours after his _delightful_ conversation with Hermione, Harry Potter found himself in Cardiff, in the Millenium Square, with the whole bloody police department as they detained the ex-Torchwood team, plus a husband and baby.

He got out of the police car he had hitched a ride with and confidently strode towards the 'suspects' and the American apparently in charge of this whole operation. He eyed the two remaining Torchwood operatives, quickly recognizing them not from photographs but by the way they held themselves. They behaved almost like seasoned aurors, watching the world around them for threats or advantages in their less-than-ideal situation, confident even when surrounded by an army of coppers pointing guns at them.

He got there just at the end of Mr. CIA's little speech.

"…this is a rendition. And on behalf of the CIA, under the 456 amendments to U.S. Code 3184, I'm extraditing this…so-called Torchwood Team to the United States of America. Now get me outta here…" And that's when he noticed Harry standing there, with all the confidence of a big cat strutting around the jungle.

"And you are?" The man snapped, irritated and very obviously in pain, probably not in the best of moods.

Harry had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smirking. The poor man had probably had one hell of a bad day, but Harry had had nothing but bad days since this 'Miracle' started, so forgive him from finding some amusement in crashing someone else's party.

"James Evans, Secret Intelligence Service. I was sent to help with this operation and accompany you and your…suspects back to America." Harry stated, providing the name that had been written on his government-issued false badge. Well, he couldn't exactly introduce himself as Harry Potter, Senior Auror, now could he?

"MI6 is in on this?" The man on the WWII clothing questioned, looking at Harry with either suspicion or interest…maybe both.

"Yes." Harry responded pleasantly, all polite tones and good behavior. "It was part of the agreement for the rendition."

Fortunately, agent Matheson had apparently been informed of this beforehand so no fights over jurisdiction or hurt egos and stepped-on toes broke out. Harry was almost disappointed.

"Let's get this over with." Said the dark-skinned man at last, leading the party towards the still waiting police cars, apparently in a hurry to get back home.

And twenty minutes later Harry Potter was in a place headed to the United States of America, to oversee and extradition and the handling of people from an organization he knew next-to-nothing about, in the hopes of finding out something about the disastrous phenomenon he knew nothing about.

All if it because of a Monday, he really hated Mondays.

~ oooOOOooo ~

**Author's Notes 2:** So, how did I do? Good, bad, something in between? Be sure to let me know through your reviews, they are always great to read and keep me going with a story. Also, if you spot any mistakes, whether in events or grammar and spelling, please let me know…especially in grammar and spelling, as please keep in mind that I'm not British and English is not even my first language. I'll be sure to correct any errors you point out and I'll be thankful for the help ^_^

About why some magic works and other doesn't. Well, as explained here, witches and wizards were basically turned into muggles, so that means they can't cast any magic, but they still use magical things that any other muggle could. It's my theory, and I'm using it in this story, that for example floo powder is what stores the magical energy that allows floo travel, so since the power is unaffected, they can still use it; portkeys, I like to believe, work only for witches and wizards, maybe drawing from their magic to power up or something, because it _really_ wouldn't make much sense for muggles to be able to use them, with the way the Ministry was dropping them around during the Quidditch Cup. So, anyways, that's my explanation, but we'll probably see this more in depth later on in the story.

This chapter was really mostly to get things started, next one we start to see some action. So see you all next chapter!


End file.
